


Achilles' heel

by BiLo Ren (do_it_to_julia)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Captivity, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Bondage, M/M, Oviposition, Pheromones, Sex Pollen, Something Made Them Do It, Underage Rape/Non-con, Undercover Missions, Xeno, nautolan biology, wanted it but not like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_it_to_julia/pseuds/BiLo%20Ren
Summary: If Tennyn Ro could think clearly, there would be ways around this. But he couldn’t. And this was where his arrogance had led him; a damp, wet prison cell on some alien planet, with darkness closing in on his padawan’s eyes.
Relationships: Original Male Jedi Master/Original Male Jedi Padawan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Achilles' heel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shanlyrical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanlyrical/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this fic. I'm still quite new to Xeno stuff, but I had a lot of fun wading through it... so to speak. Thank you very much for the intriguing prompt!

If Tennyn Ro could think clearly, there would have been ways around this. But he couldn’t. And this was where his arrogance had led him; a damp, wet prison cell on some alien planet, with darkness closing in on his padawan’s eyes.

* * *

In many ways, Master Ro had been ideally placed to take on a Zeltron student. On land, Drist Niuahn’s natural pheromones were hardly perceptible to his Nautolan senses. He could occasionally detect their presence, if he concentrated, but it wasn’t enough to affect his decisions, and certainly never enough to cause the specific conflict of interest the Council had been tacitly afraid of.

He could see it in their thoughts, sometimes - that suspicion. Even his fellow Jedi weren’t immune to cultural bias, and Zeltrons had a _reputation_. Ro had found Niuahn mulling about it in the Temple courtyard shortly after he’d taken the boy on. He’d settled beside him quietly on the stone ledge, tucking his robes under him, Niuahn’s peach-pink hair turned to fire by the Coruscanti sunset, his skin an extra shade or two toward red.

“I don’t need the Force to know something’s bothering you, Dris,” Ro told him.

His padawan shrugged. “People _like_ me,” he muttered.

“Oh, no. That sounds terrible.”

“You don’t get it. Back on Zeltros it would be fine, but here-” Niuahn reached up, unconsciously tugged at the end of his short braid. “It’s like I don’t even have to try. It has nothing to do with _me_ , with who I am.”

“Padawan.” Ro had settled his hand on Niuahn’s shoulder - so easily, so arrogant and unafraid back then - and squeezed, just once. “I think you need to give other people more credit. Maybe the pheromones help you make a good first impression, but that wouldn’t hold up if you were unbearable to be around. You’re more than the sum of your biology.”

He could feel Niuahn’s anxiety softening into a reassured calm - empathic projection was another idiosyncrasy of his species, even in those who weren’t Force-users - and a different kind of reassurance echoed back in Ro’s chest. _I can do it_ , he thought. _I can keep this one safe._

* * *

“Absolutely not.” Ro shrugged on the last part of his outfit, a battered leather coat intended to make him look like a small-time slaver rather than the Jedi Master he was. He clipped a metallic band around one of his fore-tentacles, checking its position in the mirror. “You stay in the shuttle and monitor the comms, and if things go wrong, you _call for backup_. That’s an order, Padawan.”

“It could take hours before anyone gets here. I'm more than capable of coming along with you, Master. I can make myself unseen just as well as you can, and you _know_ I can get us in there ten times as fast."

“Dris. You’re fifteen.” Ro shot him a look, knowing that the younger man would sense his disapproval despite those notoriously unreadable Nautolan eyes. “Having you pose as a slave and _literally walk into a brothel_ without the Council approving every tiny detail of the mission beforehand-”

The pale pink of Niuahn’s cheeks had taken on a flush of indignation. “There are nearly as many Zeltrons inside as there are _Twi’leks_ , and most of them are younger than me. I could get to the security panel before anyone even laid a hand on me.”

“There’s no guarantee of that. I’m not putting you in harm’s way, and that’s the end of this discussion.” Ro patted the material over his concealed lightsaber, checking for any telltale bumps. Niuahn clenched his jaw and looked away.

“You always do this,” he said quietly.

“I said we’re _done_ , Padawan,” Ro snapped, and immediately regretted it. He softened his voice, tried to sound apologetic. “Go monitor the transmitter. You can do more than enough from here.”

He’d gone in anyway. Because Ro had tried so hard to keep him safe that the short leash between them was inadequate to hold up to any strain; it had snapped the moment Niuahn stepped outside of his reach.

* * *

Things had started off promisingly enough. Tennyn had played his part, lounging back in the overseer’s office talking trade deals with a cigarra between his lips. There was a pervasive darkness around this place that was hard to ignore; background radiation from the hundreds of innocent and broken souls who had passed through these walls. The madam was a human woman, middle-aged, with an air of sly intelligence and a gold ring on every finger. She clasped them together on the desk in front of her, glanced at the two Falleen lackeys standing either side of her.

“Well, Mr Thetis, your reputation certainly checks out. But I’m curious,” she said. “Why would a man like you approach a small, independent establishment like ours? We’re only a couple of systems away from Black Sun territory; surely they could offer you a better deal.”

“If I didn’t know better, ma’am, I’d say you were trying to put me off.” There was something about the woman’s smile that Ro didn’t like, but her mind was hard to get a handle on. She had a coldness about her, above and beyond what the Jedi Master might have expected from her line of work. “I haven’t approached Black Sun. They won’t take a lot of what I’m selling,” he continued, with a meaningful tilt of his head. “Besides, I’ve heard some fascinating rumours about your side operation here. I’m curious. Always had an interest in pharmaceuticals, myself.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll see it up close soon enough,” she said.

It took a moment too long for Tennyn to interpret the glint in her eyes. Long enough for the air in his throat to cut off at her gesture, for the woman to rise from the chair and draw her lightsaber, red as a Coruscant sunset.

* * *

They’d put him in water. That was the first thing Ro became aware of, after he regained consciousness. The second was - he couldn’t put a name to it yet. A kind of hunger. There was something nearby, something he _wanted_ , something far more important and compelling than the fact he was naked and unarmed, or the dawning knowledge that he had walked straight into a trap.

He allowed his eyes to adjust to the murky darkness, taking in the grimy tiles along the wall, the reddish glow from above the surface. Ro could feel motion from somewhere behind him, rippling like a wounded animal, and when he turned, it took him a moment to interpret what he was seeing.

_Niuahn?_

The young man’s feet were barely touching the floor. When Ro surfaced, he could see that his padawan was chained to the wall, just as naked as he was and suspended chest-deep in the pool. There were bruises on his face and shoulders, and others lower down. Some of them were palm-sized.

“You came to find me.” The Nautolan couldn’t keep the anger from his voice, though it was tinged with resignation.

Niuahn’s peach-pink eyelashes fluttered as he opened them. Something had already been broken in him; Ro could see it in his expression, could sense it in the air. “I called for backup first,” the younger man croaked.

Ro found himself moving closer. He felt strangely warm; there was heat pooling behind his eyes and in his groin, and he wondered if he might be concussed. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Please don’t. Not like this.”

He didn’t understand what his padawan was saying, even as his hand moved to cup the boy’s face of its own accord and his thumb caressed the graze on his cheekbone. “What’s going on?”

“They gave me something.” Niuahn swallowed. He was trembling; the tips of Ro’s tentacles felt it through the water. “It’s a pheromone enhancer. They _want_ you to do this to me, Master. Please. Please fight it.”

Ro's body already knew what his mind still struggled to acknowledge. His psuedopenis was emerging from his genital slit, pulsing in response to the silken touch of the water. It was physically impossible for this to happen on land. Their captors had made a deliberate choice to put them here, and the implications nauseated him. He pulled his hands away from Niuahn as if burned.

"I won't hurt you," he croaked, and he did not know, in that moment, whether he meant _I won't touch you_ or _I'll be gentle_. Ro could tell instinctively that this would not get any easier. Even as he backed off to the other side of the pool and tried to focus enough to get an idea of where they were, part of him was already aware it wouldn't work. His connection to the Force was tremulous and patchy, clouded over by the growing urge to mate, and while he was more than capable of flushing toxins from his own body, it was not he who'd been poisoned.

"Padawan," he said, "I need you to try and stay calm."

Niuahn actually laughed. It came out like a sob, and his face crumpled in a way that made Tennyn's ribcage feel like it was crumpling inwards.

"Do you have any idea how long you've been out for?" he said, his tone almost childlike in its desperation. "If anyone was coming, they'd have rescued us by now."

"You aren't thinking clearly." Ro clung to the pool's edge with one hand, a reminder to himself to stay where he was. But oh, it was becoming so very hard to resist, and if the two of them were done for anyway, why shouldn't they take their pleasure while they still could? _You can make him enjoy it_ , whispered something at the back of his mind. _For once in your life, you can have this._

He forced the idea away, barricaded his rational mind against it. "I need you to tell me as much as you can remember. Where we are. How many people you've seen, what kind of weapons they have. And then I'm going to lead you through a technique that will stop this - this _reaction_."

Niuahn's gaze drifted to his eyes, focusing and unfocusing at intervals. The boy seemed drunk, or drugged, or - Force, maybe _he_ was concussed. That would reduce their chances considerably.

It might also mean that Niuahn wouldn't remember any of this.

"You need to get us out of here, Master," he was pleading. "I can't. I've tried. I can barely make the water ripple."

"Concentrate. Remember your training. How long have we been here?" 

"I don't - maybe half a day? Longer? That woman - she was ready for us. I wasn't strong enough. I should have done what you told me. I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be. Just try and stay calm." Ro didn't recall letting go of the edge, but there he was - halfway across and wading closer. He just wanted to comfort him. Was that so terrible? He had enough self-control to make sure nothing happened, as long as he didn't touch him. Everything would be fine as long as he didn't touch him.

Niuahn still tried to shrink back as he approached. Ro reached out to reassure him. Zeltron skin was so very strange; so silky, even when dry, and so warm. He could feel the heat of his padawan's body even before his hands made contact with that soft, slender waist.

He just needed to be held, that was all. To be comforted in the wake of all that unspeakable hurt. And it couldn't be scaring him that much, not really, or surely Ro would have felt it by now. He wrapped his arms around him, letting the younger man's tear-stained face rest against his shoulder, sticky and hot, and guiltily enjoyed the way his exposed shaft felt pressed against his student's abdomen. Someone had ripped away the string at the end of Niuahn's braid, and the ends fanned out raggedly in the water. Ro stroked the length of it once before carefully beginning to pull the strands apart.

Niuahn struggled in his master's hold, trying to arch his body back so he could bring a knee up between them, but Ro merely tightened his embrace and planted his thigh firmly in between the boy's slim legs. Though his cock was soft, it was undeniably _there_ , and Ro could not recall in the moment whether Zeltron genitals naturally protruded from their bodies or whether it was a sign that he, too, was aroused. Perhaps it would just take him a little more time to get hard, or perhaps there was some aspect of Zeltron biology he'd forgotten. Either way, when his fingers explored the cleft of his padawan's rear, his entrance felt loose and slick enough for him to comfortably accommodate Ro’s length.

He buried his lips against Niuahn's shoulder, pressed him back against the tiles, wondered at how the boy's pheromones had become strong enough for him to scent them through the air like this - he smelt so alien, so intoxicating. How had he ever resisted this? Why had he even wanted to?

"Master-"

"Shh." Two of Ro's sensory tentacles slipped around to cradle Niuahn's head. The feel of his padawan's soft hair beneath them sent shivers of pleasure coursing up along them to the nape of Ro’s neck, and his spine thrilled in tandem. He coaxed the boy's legs around his waist, nipping comfortingly at the skin of his shoulder all the while.

It felt so good to be close to him, and so _right_ . Ro sighed out his pleasure as he guided his cock to that small, slick opening, milking out a few spurts of lubricating precome by hand to ease the passage. “Master, _please_ ,” he heard, and Ro pushed in, feeling Niuahn’s flesh tense around his own as he entered him in slow increments. For a few moments there was no sound except the gentle splash of the water around them and his padawan’s wet, ragged breathing. Then Tennyn's instincts took over, and he moaned, driving his ovipositor deep into Niuahn’s body with a firm grip on both hips to hold him there.

He was so wonderfully tight and warm, and even the hard kick of Drist’s heel against the small of his back couldn’t detract from the pleasure. Ro wasn’t sure whether this was a Zeltron response to arousal or simply the last vestiges of the younger man’s nervousness, but either way it stopped once he started to flex his shaft inside, exploring the secret spaces of his body like a tentacle delving into a shell.

Ro recalled dimly that many land-based species used a thrusting motion during sex, so he drew himself in and out a little to try and enhance Niuahn’s pleasure. Nothing really happened until his member brushed against a certain point inside, but the response then was electric; his padawan shuddered and let out a sob, and Ro kissed him, holding him tight in his elation. He rubbed against that point again and again until Niuahn tensed up, and released a spurt of hot fluid between their bodies before going limp in his arms.

After this, Ro could no longer hold himself back. He ground into him, already feeling the buildup of eggs making their way through the channel of his cock, pearl-sized and firm. With one last shivering pulse, he came inside him, releasing his clutch deep into Niuahn and marveling distantly at just how large this load was. But it _had_ been a while.

His ovipositor throbbed through the aftershocks and then, slowly, began to withdraw. Still, Ro held him, until the haze started to lift and the younger man’s true feelings began to eke into his mind again. Dread settling in the pit of his stomach, Ro let go of him, and with clear sight looked upon the face of his ravaged padawan; his cheeks swollen from crying, his eyes darkening with hate.

There was nothing he could say. And neither of them had long to process it, anyway; shouts were already echoing in distant hallways as Tennyn backed away from the boy, and the muffled cry of “Get those things out of here!” was shortly followed by what felt like a sensory tidal wave. As the Force returned to him in one overwhelming rush, Ro was dimly aware of his padawan’s restraints unlocking themselves, and Drist gave him one last look of betrayal before disappearing. Literally. Tennyn had taught him the technique himself.

“Master Ro?” Someone was calling him through the door, and the locks were clicking open. “Master Ro, are you injured?”

“Dris,” he croaked. “Please. I’m so sorry. Let them help you.”

There was no reply.

* * *

He told them, of course. What else could he do? One of them took him to a medic while the others searched for his padawan, and although a couple of them had sensed Drist at the edges of their awareness, they could not find him. They relayed all this without meeting Ro’s eyes.

Tennyn left the Order of his own accord. He did not want to stand before a panel of Council members and relay just how deeply he had broken his young student’s trust. Whatever judgement they passed, it would not change the fact of his guilt.

He would never learn whether Drist Niuahn returned to the Jedi. But sometimes, he would see in his dreams the woman with rings on every finger, waiting in the desert, and his padawan, walking toward her with an outstretched hand.


End file.
